Missed call from Mom
Libby
I’ll call you later.
I’m very distracted.
By my husband.
Mom
I am more suspicious than ever.
Libby
I get it. But there’s no need to be.
EPILOGUE
LIBBY
My family knows the truth about how we ended up together, and everyone agrees it might have been the only way he would have ever won me over: by working backwards.
They might be right.
The start of our season has been even more of a success than I could have hoped. Undefeated so far. Mr. Stevens has already called to praise me about it.
Our show debuted a couple weeks ago, and Jordan is the unequivocal star ofBeing Libby Bennet, which is a bit ironic, considering the name. The fansadorehim. The story of us running off to elope to Hawaii without telling our families and keeping our romance a secret for six months has already inspired three best-selling romance novels, and there are talks of a Netflix movie. Jordan is gunning for a certain Hemsworth to play him.
He still makes me dinner every night he can.
We still sometimes have to delay it for … other things.
One night, as we snuggle together on the couch and watch old episodes ofFriends, he says, “You know, there are some things we never really talked about before we got married because of why we were getting married.”
I lift my head from his chest to look up at him. “Like?”
“Who’s going to be in charge of the finances?” he offers, a twinkle in his eyes.
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you concerned about our finances?” I ask innocently.
“You did just buy a hockey team,” he points out.
“I am saving a little money now that you’re an assistant coach and my husband and not my private consultant.” I shrug. He’s still my private consultant, if we’re being honest. I run everything by him, but he insisted, now that our marriage is real, that I can’t pay him. He says it’s weird. So the White Wolves pay him instead.
“True,” he agrees.
“Anything else?” I’d be a dummy if I didn’t suspect where this is going.
“Our roles and responsibilities.”
I point to him. “You make me dinner.” I point to myself. “I eat the dinner.”
“Okay, that’s settled.” He leans over to give me a light peck on the lips, surprising me by pulling away, even when I lean in to continue the kiss.
“There’s more?” I guess in faux shock.
“Babies,” he says, very seriously. Then he takes a deep breath. “I love you, Libby. And I am ready to follow you wherever you want to take us. If anything—your past, your career, whatever—makes you feel like children aren’t the right path for you, now or ever, I will support that. I just want you to know.”
